Revenge Fire
by LilyGhost
Summary: With Ranger and his men's help, Stephanie gets to right a wrong in an explosive way.


**All familiar characters or events belong to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

"It's all yours, Steph. Let it blow," Slick said to me.

He's Rangeman's go-to lock guy and I wanted nothing left of this truck except a fun story to tell repeatedly over pizza and beer with the guys. Having Joyce's latest penis-with-a-paycheck put a sizeable dent in my POS Ford on her orders while I was doing surveillance on our mutually wanted skip, was the last straw. Vinnie can take his job and his half real/half plastic sex toy and shove each someplace that would cause nightmares if I pictured it.

I'm done with it all. I have a good guy, a no-strings job whenever I'm ready to accept it on an everyday basis, and a new group of friends who didn't need more than a millisecond to agree to help me blow a vehicle sky-high. Under Ranger's eagle-eye supervision and extremely detailed instruction ... Slick, Hal, and Bobby, sped karma along for me. It may be a bitch, but Joyce is a much bigger one.

My target-truck is a dull blue instead of a dark, glossy black like Ranger's. The Bat truck is still in showroom condition, while Joyce's junk-of-the-month's beat-up bulldozer has sand and salt barely concealing its multiple rust spots that sorta remind me of the age spots Joyce hides under carefully applied whore-paint. Ranger's truck has a sexy rumble like his morning voice when it's running. This wake-the-dead Dodge could wipe out a city with a one/two carbon monoxide-noise pollution punch. My guy's pickup has strategically placed light bars to accentuate its curves and highlight its muscle. The vehicular-victim in front of me should only be viewed in the glow of a decent fire.

Like the one it's about to become part of. This isn't revenge so much as a public service. Ranger assured me that the police won't be a factor in what we're doing, but I intend to use the 'public service' angle if I do find myself standing in front of a judge.

"You set to do this, Babe?"

Oh yeah. This moment is decades in the making. She tortured me as a little girl, she wanted to be the end of my marriage, and like a two-legged herpe she resurfaced repeatedly when I started working for my skeezy cousin. And she continues to make my life miserable every chance she gets.

Until today. I tightened my hand around the gizmo hooked up to hopefully enough explosives to send chunks of fiberglass all the way to friggin' Mars. Stephanie Plum is on a mission and nothing's stopping me. Fate is clearly giving me a thumbs up since Joyce's sex den is located on a dark street at the end of a cul-de-sac. You could say she has neighbors, but none are close enough to be impacted by this or to prevent it from happening.

"Yes," I answered. "Just tell me when."

He made a motion with his hand for his men to clear the area.

" _Now_ ," he instructed.

I set the crime in motion and felt an orgasmic rush when I heard the sound of a weight that has been on my shoulders for thirty years, effectively being lifted off and thoroughly destroyed. The fireball now in front of me isn't so bad either.

"I never thought I'd get turned-on by arson," I told Ranger, "but I'm feeling friendlier than usual towards you."

"If you were concerned about an arrest for damaging private property," he said, sliding a muscled arm around me and kissing my head as we basked in the flickering orange light, "you likely won't want to explain an indecent exposure charge."

"Plus, you wouldn't want to corrupt our innocent minds by us seeing anything personal happening between you and Bossman," Bobby added.

"I was mostly kidding," I assured them, "but I am unusually happy right now."

Or I was until the front door of the house opened and one _half_ -naked person and a _completely_ naked one came running out.

" _What the fuck do you think you're doing?!_ " Joyce shrieked, not doing a good job of tying the belt on a pink silk robe that I doubt would fit any of my nieces.

I suddenly loved my guys even more, because they all averted their eyes and not one of them tried to sneak a peek at things I'm positive would cause, even from a distance, permanent blindness as well as something that'd take multiple rounds of antibiotics to kick. My Merry Men are all about quality over desperate availability.

"What does it look like we're doing?" I asked, keeping my own eyes on something just behind her head in case blindness is a real possibility. I was also desperately avoiding the naked guy who'd come out behind her. "Though now we're thinking about toasting some marshmallows ... or possibly a mini-weenie if he gets any closer. You may want to clue him in that fire actually burns."

The half-a-second glimpse I got of him, had me fighting to keep my pre-victory Peanut Buster Parfait down. He is totally and nauseatingly naked, and lucky me gets to gloat while attempting not to get sick from any eye-to-eye or skin-to-skin contact with him.

I shuddered. I swear, Rumple Foreskin here is my punishment for living with Ranger. If I knew my mother would rather pluck out all of her nose hair than associate with the underbelly of Trenton, I'd accuse her of putting Vinnie up to rehiring Joyce to get back at me for not only remaining a bounty hunter, but also moving in with Batman instead of marrying Messed-up Morelli.

There were a couple loud pops that made me and my heart jump as the truck burned in front of us, but that's a small price to pay for pissing Joyce off.

"I hope we don't have an issue here, because I'm not fucking touching that," Bobby told me, like I wouldn't be able to see that I'm on my own if cuffing either or both of them is required.

"You can't just go around blowing people's shit up," Joyce was saying.

As much as I was trying to just enjoy the warmth of the fire without inhaling too much of the smoke and diesel fumes, I couldn't ignore her completely. I leaned back against Ranger and smiled smugly when his arms immediately came around me.

"Turns out you can," I replied, "when you know the right people and have friends willing to risk jail time for a good time."

"You fucking _them_ , too?"

Slick won my undying gratitude when he placed his right hand over his heart and sighed dramatically. "We can only dream, but then the Boss would pull all of our organs out through our mouths if we disrespected her like that. _You,_ though, we wouldn't even be looking at now if we didn't want to see Steph use the ass-kicking moves we've shown her."

"The only ass you'll be thinking about is _mine_ when I walk back into the house to call the cops after I knock her on hers."

"You wish," I told shrewzilla.

"I _know_."

"Well ... if his balls move one more inch, I'm going to tase you just for making me have to see what you do," I warned her. "Where the hell is Rumple Foreskin's robe?"

" _Rumple Foreskin?_ " Ranger asked me.

"I ran his plates through one of your programs and his real name is Colin Tickle ... that's not much better."

"That's even worse," Hal agreed.

"Yeah," Bobby chimed in, "after seeing this guy, her visits to Vinnie are starting to make sense."

"It's scary, sad, and sick, all at the same time," I said, nodding my head.

I mentally congratulated myself for not jumping at another truck-pop and just watched in fascination as lit pieces of the pickup made impressive arcs from the fire to the asphalt driveway.

"Who's Vinnie?" Mr. Tickle asked.

"He's not important," Joyce was quick to answer.

"The boss you're currently working for that you've slept with, probably _are still_ sleeping with, isn't important?" I asked her. "It seemed to be a subject of never-ending interest to you when I slept with Ranger."

"I know your pea-brain has a hard time focusing, but you just blew up Colin's truck!" Joyce said, rudely interrupting the good point I had going.

"I did, didn't I?" I admitted, smiling proudly at myself. "Well ... with some major help I did."

"You'll pay for this, you freak."

"I don't think I will," I told her. "Ranger said I can do whatever I want and he'll take care of it."

That's the only time I chanced really looking at her, and like Tickle no doubt saw an hour ago, I watched her swallow visibly.

"You can't get away with exploding my sweetie's truck."

That was said towards the white-haired, pot-bellied wallet she's currently shacked up with all the way out here in Jersey's own Buttzville.

He lives an-hour-and-a-freakin'-half away from Trenton, and Barnhardt still commutes to make my life more difficult. Tonight is entirely justified in my eyes. And right now I'm feeling really good about myself in comparison to her. She's lacking everything I now have ... a man who loves _me_ not just my boobs. I have the guys who protect me and seem to like me even when they aren't being paid to care. And I don't need a man to take care of me or support me ... not in the financial sense anyway.

"You've always believed that you deserve everything you get, and for once I agree. You totally deserve this and _him_. Now do you think you get 'your sweetie' a friggin' blanket, pajamas, or ... _something_?" I asked, mirroring Bobby's wince whenever Mr. Tickle moved.

"I may be old, but I still have some starch left in the 'ol collar, if you know what I mean," Tickle bragged. "You can test me out if you want. Joycie said it's fine if I want to experiment."

I did more than wince now ... I had to hold Ranger back from beating this idiot's face into something that resembles ground beef. He can't punch Joyce, but he could give this guy a beating for two. He let Morelli live because I convinced him the piece of slime isn't worth the time and trouble it'd take to dismember him and bury the pieces. Yet today, I was so pissed at Barnhardt's attempt to gain the upper hand with a high bond skip we both wanted, I was halfway to the elevator before Ranger was able to finish suggesting 'decommissioning' the pickup that pushed in the back door of my crappy vehicle.

Of course, instead of having my old Ford Escape towed to his car guy, Ranger had it removed permanently and quickly replaced with a Lexus RX, so I suppose this _is_ technically a spite visit more than anything else. I can't help it. I'm tired of coming out covered in shit when it comes to my life or my job ... for once I want someone else stuck with the cleanup.

With one hand still on Ranger's chest, and a glance thrown over my shoulder towards my guys to let them know that I had this, I addressed Yuck One and Two.

"I'm not touching either of you, even with a full Hazmat suit on and a seven-foot-long stick in my hand. I just wanted to make it clear that if you come near me - or a job I'm given - again, _stuff_ will happen."

"Big talk from a little Plum," Barnhardt said.

My mouth dropped open. She can't possibly be that stupid, can she?

"Ummm," I started ..."that fire over there should show you that I'm serious. I'm not taking your, your Sugar Daddy's, or Vinnie's, shit anymore. I can fully earn my Destructo nickname if I want, but I was trying to be nice. Trust me, you don't want me to leave my conscience at home."

"Bring it on, cuntcake."

"If I wasn't afraid of contracting rabies ... I'd shove your nose all the way up into your drawn-on eyebrows for that one. You sound delusionally cocky for someone sleeping in a place called _Buttzville_."

"This is where his house is."

"I could make the house go boom, too. I already know you hate kids and pets, so I can have it explode whenever the two of you leave without feeling at all bad about it."

"You wouldn't?"

I glanced up at my 'get out of jail free' pass and felt my hormones kick in again when Ranger returned my grin. "Damn right, I would. And I wouldn't lose any sleep over it. So shut your pie-hole and listen. Vinnie is yours in every sense of the word. I'm not talking to him, working for him, or even calling myself related to him. If you come near me, my people, or my stuff, I will end you ... or get someone with experience to end you."

"Count me in," Bobby said. "I don't touch a woman unless she wants me to, but I know plenty of ways to fuck up someone's life without being anywhere near them."

"Did you take lessons from Dickie on how to do that?" I asked him. "He annoys me just by still being alive." I glanced but didn't look at the naked numbnuts. "By the way, Joyce slept with him, too. You know, it's really interesting. You had sex with _my_ now ex-husband, _my_ cousin, you bat your fake eyelashes at any guy _I'm_ standing near ... some might say that you literally picked a fucked-up way of trying to be me."

"Who wouldn't want to be you, Babe?" Ranger asked. "There's no better person created."

Did I mention that he's perfect in more ways than just looks?

"You're fucking crazy. I'd rather be dead than be _you_ , Plum."

"Becoming skanktimonious in your old age? Offing you, though a really nice thought, would require a longer explanation than one for a little bonfire like this one ... which you really should think about trying to put out before _your_ shitbox catches, too. How nice was I not to explode yours ... _yet_?"

"Your _restraint_ is admirable," she said, venom dripping from each word.

"Suit yourself. I don't care about anything you do anymore. What do you say, Guys? Pizza at Shorty's?" I asked my RangeMen before cutting my eyes back to Barnhardt. "Unless you still plan to call the cops and report this 'accident'? Keep in mind, though, that Mr. Tickle is _separated_ , not _divorced_ from his wife. One call and I'm sure she'd get this house through their divorce before I get to blow it up ... not to mention half his assets except for the one you're stuck sleeping with."

"She wouldn't do that?" Tickle asked her. "Would she? Millie doesn't know about us yet."

"I don't know, Joyce," I said, "would I really mess with your lives like that?"

She must really be pissed to let her face contort unattractively that way. "Fuck you," she said, thankfully grabbing Tickle's _wrist_ not something else, and went back inside.

She came out again through the attached garage and turned the garden hose on the still blazing truck. Someone must've noticed the smoke or the flames and made a call to the police themselves. We could hear sirens a few streets over so I figured my work here is done.

"Who knew blowing up stuff could make you hungry?" I said to Ranger.

"You're hungry right after you've just eaten," Ranger pointed out, as he used an arm to steer me back to his car.

"True. So ... do you guys want to follow us to Shorty's?" I asked them.

"You buying?" Bobby asked.

I could feel Ranger shake his head above mine. "Yes," I told them, canceling out my guy's plan to pay. "I'm just about to start a really great job, so I can afford to treat my friends to a celebratory meal."

"What are we celebrating?" Hal asked.

"Independence Day."

"Fourth of July is months away, Steph," Bobby felt the need to remind me.

"I'd think you guys of all people would know you don't need a specific day to celebrate being alive and free."

Thanks to Ranger and my increasing belief in myself, anything's possible ... even a life I'm happy to be in control of.


End file.
